


I Need A Boyfriend!

by thethingthathasnoname



Category: Bad Education (UK TV)
Genre: Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Protective Frank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-02
Updated: 2014-11-02
Packaged: 2018-02-23 19:56:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2553614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thethingthathasnoname/pseuds/thethingthathasnoname
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephen desperately needs a fake boyfriend asap for a dance class social. But what on earth will happen when he realises the only suitable candidate is Frank Grayson? Graymichael because I love it so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Step 1: Finding the Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Bad Education because I am just li'l ol' me.  
> Enjoy!

“Oh my god, Chantelle! We have a problem.” Stephen announced as he whirled into Form K’s classroom on a Friday morning.

Chantelle, who had been painting her nails a sparkly pink, looked up eagerly, even putting the lid on the nail varnish. “Tell me everything.”

“Ok, so basically…” Stephen began, swinging his bag onto the desk and taking up their deep discussion pose - sitting sideways on the chair, one leg crossed onto the other so they could rest their chins on their hands – Chantelle doing the same. “I need a boyfriend.”

“Well don’t we all, babes.” Chantelle sighed.

“By tomorrow.” Stephen finished.

“Explain.”

“I have this dance class social on Saturday night and I maybe, kinda, perhaps told some of the guys at my dance class that I have this boyfriend. Because, you know, social standings and popularity and stuff. Also, some of the guys kept trying to hit on me so I just said I had a boyfriend. And now they all expect me to bring him.”

“Can’t you just say that he can’t make it?”

“But then they would know that he’s not real. They already suspect it…”

“Well, what the hell are you going to do? I don’t think I can pull of the moustache and cap look for a whole evening. What have you said about him?”

“I said he was, you know, handsome. Drop dead gorgeous actually. Muscles everywhere. Very big. Strong. Your typical bad boy. I basically just described my dream guy. And I made sure that I emphasised the bad guy bit so that the ones hitting on me would stop.”

“Right… this is the only place we’re gonna find any suitable candidates at such short notice. So, any specific details about appearance given?” Chantelle asked, scoping the room subtly. Stephen glanced around too.

“Well, I said he was relatively thin and muscly so that rules out Joe. I’m pretty sure I’ve already eliminated the whole wheelchair thing with Rem Dogg with a few of the stories I’ve been telling. He’s big and like older looking with muscles and you know so no to Mitchell. Oh, and he’s our age so no chance to Alfie. But I said he could drive… gah why the hell would I say that. And that he was like a real hot bad guy. I’ve basically made it impossible cos where the hell am I going to find one of those. Especially one that would come to a dance class social full of gays.”

They sighed collectively and Stephen was close to bashing his head on the table.

“Maybe you could fake an illness? Less obvious?”

“Oh hell no; it’s an open buffet, all you can eat. It’s gonna be an amazing night. I just really need a boyfriend!” he practically wailed.

Just then, the door slammed, and the entire class stared round, hoping for something good like Mr Fraser on another of his fancy dress rampages.

It was just Grayson.

“Alright, Dickers.” He scowled at a terrified Alfie, apparently unaware, or at least unbothered, that he was a good ten minutes late.

Alfie coughed nervously. “Frank, er, Grayson. You’re late. Er, why… why are you late?”

“My truck broke down init.” Grayson replied, chucking his bag onto his desk, which was then followed by his hoodie.

“I’m sorry, but, er, this… this means that you’re going to have a… a…” Alfie attempted.

Grayson slowly turned to face him, glaring.

“Detention?” Alfie finished, uncertainly.

Grayson clicked his knuckles and flexed his muscles and Alfie visibly squirmed.

“You know what, don’t worry about it, Grayson. Not your fault. Don’t worry.” Alfie gushed and then went back to sleeping on his desk.

Stephen was about to turn back and wail some more with Chantelle, when he realised something.

Grayson could drive. Grayson had muscles. Grayson was your typical bad boy. Frank Grayson was his idealistic boyfriend. Fake boyfriend, he had to remind himself. Fake.

He spun around to find Chantelle wide-eyed with exactly the same look of realisation on her face.

“He’s the one.” She said.

“Yup.” Stephen grinned.

“But how are we?...” she trailed off.

“I don’t know.” Stephen groaned.


	2. Step 2: Obtaining the Boyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So Stephen has identified that Frank Grayson is the only (fake) boyfriend for him! But how will he go about getting the biggest, baddest bully of Abbey Grove to (fakely) go out with him?

It was nearing the end of Friday and Stephen was getting desperate. How the hell could he get Frank Grayson to agree to be his fake boyfriend?! It wasn’t like he could trick him or pressure him. He couldn’t offer him anything or, god forbid, seduce him. And he couldn’t just ask him… could he?

He sat in Chemistry writing up little pros and cons for each method he could think of. They gradually got more and more ridiculous until it got to the stage where he was seriously considering kidnapping his dog and holding it hostage. It was at this point that he realised he was running out of options; he needed to think of something. Quickly.

The bell went for the end of the day and Stephen practically ran out of the lesson. He needed to find Chantelle. And Frank. Although he had no idea what to say to the latter. Luckily, he found Chantelle easily by the lockers. Unluckily, she had no idea what to do either so he hadn’t really made much progress. He showed her his lists of pros and cons and she laughed at some of the later ones, especially the ones involving the government, but couldn’t offer any advice.

Eventually, she sighed. “You’re just going to have to talk to him.”

“I can’t just ask him… can I?”

“Looks like you have to.” She said, wide-eyed and serious.

“But… But…” Stephen protested.

Suddenly, she grinned wickedly.

“Would you look at that.” She said rapidly and when Stephen turned to look, she pushed him. Right into the path of Frank Grayson.

He stumbled out, tripping and falling against Grayson’s firm body, dropping his bag and watching his books spill everywhere.

Over Grayson’s shoulder, he saw Chantelle blow a kiss and skip off. Bitch.

“Alright love.” Grayson laughed maliciously and Stephen fumed.

There was no way he could spend an entire night with this prick. Why had he not considered that aspect before?

Oh yes, right. Because he had absolutely no other fucking choice.

Stephen turned bright red as he scrabbled on the floor to pick up his books.

“Yes, fine. Someone pushed me, is all.” He gabbled, jerking upright.

This was stupid. This was never gonna work. He’d just find someone else. He’d work it out. There was just no way in hell that he could possibly ask Frank Grayson out, even if it was fake. He turned to storm off.

“Er… Carmichael.” Frank called after him.

Stephen spun round, surprised.

“You, er, forgot something.” Frank bent down and picked up Stephen’s maths book which he must have missed in his haste to get everything together. Screw you, Chantelle.

“Thanks.” Stephen couldn’t help but smile as he rushed back to get it.

Ok. It was now or never. But there were so many people around. He was worried about how Frank would react. Would he laugh at him? Or worse, hit him?

Frank held out the book and Stephen took it, lingering just a little when their fingers made contact. Oh fuck it. Here goes.

“Er, Fra- Grayson?” Stephen began, nervously, looking down at Frank’s shoes. “Can I, er, talk to you?”

There was a moment’s silence where Stephen couldn’t bring himself to look at Frank and Frank seemed too shocked to reply.

A little while longer and still Frank said nothing.

Stephen turned to go. “You know what, it doesn’t matter.”

“Oh but I’m curious now.” Frank spoke suddenly. “Come with me.”

The odd pair headed out of school, sort of together. They weren’t talking but they were walking vaguely near each other; not side by side but not separately. They both kept looking around them as though they were doing something wrong, even though they knew they weren’t. Frank turned left out of the school gates and Stephen followed. He continued to walk round more corners until he ended up round the back of the school where his truck was parked. Of course, Frank would find the nearest run-down looking spot to park his truck. There were several alleys leading off in various direction, each adorned with a lovely selection of bins. Stephen wrinkled his nose.

“Something the matter, gayboy?” Frank teased.

“I like what you’ve done with the place.” Stephen retorted.

Frank almost smiled.

“So, er, whatdyu want?” he leaned against the side of his truck.

Stephen took a deep breath. “Ok. I know this is gonna sound totally weird but… I kind of need you to be my boyfriend for tomorrow night for this dance class social. Like a fake boyfriend sort of thing. Cos, you know, I may have accidentally told them that I have a boyfriend and I may have accidentally described someone a lot like you?”

There was another moment’s awkward silence. Stephen could practically hear Frank’s brain going, considering everything.

“Someone like me?” he eventually asked. Well, that was unexpected.

“Oh, you know. Big, bad, hot guy. Slightly older. Can drive. Muscly. Attractive.” Stephen described.

“You think I’m…” Frank began and then stopped himself. “Never mind, init.”

“So will you do it?” Stephen asked to break the tension.

“Depends… What’s in it for me?” Frank drawled.

Guess Stephen should have expected that.

“Er, I dunno. Like whatever you want really.”

Frank raised one eyebrow. “ _Whatever_ I want?”

“Within reason.” Stephen backtracked.

“What are my reasonable limits then?” Frank questioned, still with a suggestive something in his eye.

“How about you make suggestions and I’ll say yay or nay.”

There was a pause.

“Let me think about it.” Frank said eventually.

“It’s tomorrow night.” Stephen reminded him.

Another pause.

“Fine. You know what, I’ll do it. But it better be worth my while, Carmichael.” Frank finished unexpectedly.

“What… really??” Stephen exclaimed.

“Yeh… why not?” Frank shrugged. Stephen swore he could see a faint blush on his cheeks. Maybe that was just a trick of the light.

“Yay! Thankyou so much, babes.” Stephen squealed and Frank grimaced. “You’re gonna have to get used to that.” Stephen stuck his tongue out at Frank, who leaned closer in return.

“I’m sure I can cope.” He smirked. “See you tomorrow… babes.” He leaned even closer to press a feather-light kiss to Stephen’s cheek.

Stephen stared.

Frank grinned.

Stephen stared.

Frank walked around his truck and got into the driver’s seat.

Stephen stared.

Frank turned the key in the ignition and drove off.

Stephen stared.

Stephen raised one hand and touched the place where Frank’s lips had been mere seconds before.

This was going to be interesting.


	3. Step 3: Using the Boyfriend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow, Stephen actually managed to get Grayson to agree to be his (fake) date; looks like this is going to be an interesting evening.

It was drawing towards 7:00pm on Saturday evening and Stephen was hurrying about preparing; both physically and mentally. It was a smart-casual dress code – I mean seriously what does that even mean – and so Stephen had tried at least 20 different outfits before deciding on slightly white-washed ripped jeans and a bright purple, loose hanging, rather revealing vest top thing. Not to brag, but it set off his caramel skin tone, and he looked hot. So why was his heart still pounding incessantly in his head?

Oh yes. Because Frank freaking Grayson was his date tonight. Frank. Freaking. Grayson. His boyfriend… fake boyfriend. And only for the night. But still.

He had kissed his cheek.

That had to mean something right?

A boy could dream.

He had texted Frank earlier in the day with all the details for tonight. It had been a bloody nightmare trying to get hold of his number - ended up going through every single boy on Chantelle’s contacts, and there were quite a few, until they found one who was vaguely friends with one of Frank’s cronies. Frank had responded to Stephen’s strict instructions as to his address and the time and the dress code with a simple “K” so Stephen just had to hope for the best.

It was still only 6:45 but Stephen was listening out keenly for the doorbell.

Oh god, 6:49.

6:52

6:55

6:57

6:58

6:59

7:00

He should be here by now.

7:01

What if he’s lost?

7:02

What if he’s forgotten?

7:03

What if he’s bailed and stood him up?

7:04

What if…

But then the doorbell went.

Stephen sprinted down the stairs. “I’ll get it.” He yelled. He wrenched open the door, smiling.

“Hiya Frank…” he trailed off midsentence as he got a proper look at the boy standing on his doorstep.

This boy – man – was tall and muscly. He was clean shaven and smart and smelt amazing. His hair was messy but neat and just generally perfect, and he was displaying a shy half-smile on his lips. He was wearing dark jeans and a tight fitting grey t-shirt with a jacket over the top; the perfect image of a bad boy. Just all round perfect, really.

Stephen’s mouth literally dropped open.

“You look…” he stuttered. “Good.” Stephen finished not wanting to overdo it.

“Well, you look amazing so…” Frank grinned.

Stephen became aware of the fact he was holding something down by his side which he now brought up to Stephen.

It was a bunch of white and red roses. Stephen’s favourite.

“For you.” He blushed.

Stephen could not believe it. He literally could not believe it.

He graciously thanked Frank, taking the flowers into the kitchen where he quickly put them in a vase and grabbed his bag.

“We should get going.” He said when he returned.

“Yeh, sorry I was a bit late. I guess I got carried away getting ready and everything.”

Stephen openly ran his eyes up and down Frank’s body appreciatively. “Well, it was certainly worth it.”

Frank only blushed a little. Stephen grinned.

“Shall we be off then?” Frank pressed and Stephen nodded.

He called a goodbye to his parents and they headed out.

In the car, or truck, they talked about general things like how nice Stephen’s house is or what a good job Frank had done with this truck. Every so often there would come a teasing comment about how one or the other brushed up well or how this was going to work. The conversation was easy and nice. And fun. They actually got along pretty well.

Bloody hell, Stephen had to stop thinking like this.

They got to the place of the party and Frank got out. He went around and opened the door for Stephen, like a proper gentleman. Stephen grinned and gratefully took the assistance descending from the truck. They headed in together and just as they reached the door, Stephen felt a hand slide around his waist. He looked up, surprised.

Frank shrugged. “Got to be realistic, right?”

“Yeh, I suppose. Er, good idea.” Stephen smiled, secretly thoroughly enjoying the hand on his waist.

They pushed the doors open and walked in, the music and atmosphere hitting them the minute they did. It was being held in the dance hall but it had been completely transformed. There were bright lights flashing everywhere and a makeshift bar in one corner; the adults had obviously chosen to turn a blind eye on this one. People immediately started rushing up to Stephen, and more importantly, Frank, gushing about how wonderful it was to finally meet him and how Stephen had said so much about him.

Everyone, boys and girls, was literally swooning at him, and Stephen didn’t blame them; he did look very attractive in that tight t-shirt. They felt up his muscles and hung onto his every word, Frank happily chatting all the while. Stephen was beaming, proud. He could feel his popularity rising and all the boys that had been annoying him all year took one look at Frank and backed off. Plus, it was like Frank was his, wasn’t it? Because he was his boyfriend and everyone loved him. (Fake boyfriend, fake, Stephen had to reinforce in his mind.)

But what made it even better was Frank glancing at Stephen every so often, while this was all happening, and sharing a secret smile. But even more so was the fact that Frank’s fingers on Stephen’s waist were constantly moving, sliding under the shirt, stroking and caressing the skin there. It made Stephen’s knees weak.

Oh Jesus Christ. What had he done?

Eventually, people drifted away, giving the pair more space. Stephen managed to get to the ‘bar’ and get them a couple of beers before heading back to Frank. The evening went by surprisingly easily and Stephen found himself thoroughly enjoying himself. Frank didn’t look like he was having too bad a time either with all these toned girls, and boys, swooning over him. However, much to Stephen’s appreciation, he didn’t try anything with them, staying true to Stephen and his (fake) relationship. Frank was, actually, the perfect boyfriend. He was there when Stephen wanted him to dance or stand and chat, but when Stephen wanted to go and talk to his other friends, he let him. He was really up for dancing, any kind, from casual bobbing, to hilarious freestyle, to slow dancing. And he wasn’t half bad for someone surrounded by a dance school.

But still, the best bits were when they were together and Frank would just touch him; sometimes he would take his hand, sometimes it was the arm around the waist or shoulder, sometimes he would even caress his face. This, in turn, gave Stephen more confidence to occasionally stroke his bicep, or dance closer to him, or wrap his arms around his neck.

It was halfway through the evening and, after quite a few more drinks, Stephen and Frank were happily dancing again. However, glancing around the room, it appeared that everyone was watching their every move as every time Frank would lean closer to whisper something in Stephen’s ear or Stephen would slide his hands over Frank’s chest, someone would wolf whistle or call over or clap. It appeared there was always at least one pair of eyes on them, which would quickly flit away as soon as they looked, just to be replaced by another. Stephen was the centre of talk and he owed it all to Frank Grayson.

It was strange because he had almost forgotten that this was the same Frank Grayson who slammed year 7s into lockers for no apparent reason, or who drew dicks all over the biology microscopes. This was a different side to him; this was Frank, the real Frank, while that was all Grayson.

He glanced up, to see Frank looking down at him. They shared a soppy smile and Stephen dared to wind his hands around Frank’s neck as they danced. They moved together, quite contently staring into each other’s eyes, whether this for the show or whether it was because they wanted to, neither were quite sure.

Their moment was broken, however, by a loud giggling. They looked up, flushing, to find what the joke was, and found a group of girls staring at them.

“What?” Frank asked, still smiling gently.

“Nothing…” One of the girls replied.

“Aha, what is it?” Stephen asked. It didn’t seem like they were laughing at them, more just about them – either way he was curious.

“You’re just so cute. That’s all.” Another girl piped up. The others all tried to shush her, but yet another continued her track.

“You’re like so perfect for each other; you really suit. We’ve been watching you pretty much all night, like basically everyone else in here, and you guys are so in love, it’s so so adorable. And we’re so proud of you for being so out like this like we’ve never seen such a confident gay couple. It just makes us all so happy.”

“Basically, we ship you like the motherf-ing Titanic.” Another one finished.

“Thanks. I think?” Stephen laughed, risking a peek up at Frank to find him grinning too.

“Yeh, you’re welcome. Just thought you should know how happy you make us all. You know, and stuff. Sorry, just someone had to say it.” And with that the group walked past.

The boys looked at each other.

“So we’re perfect for each other?” Frank teased.

“Apparently we really suit.” Stephen winked back.

“Such a confident gay couple… I’m so proud of us.” Frank joked back and they returned to their dancing, now moving slightly closer than before.

Neither of them mentioned, however, the comment about being in love.

The evening was coming to a close and Frank and Stephen had just come off the dance floor after a particularly emotional slow dance. They now stood at the side, surveying the room, still noticing eyes on them at all times. It was like they were waiting for something. Frank knew this sort of situation well, he’d done lots of obscure schemes like this before and there was always something that could make or break your cover. He kept thinking, mind whirring, eyes whirling round the room. And then slowly, it clicked. He glanced down at Stephen, who was still observing the masses.

Would he be up for this? It was him that had suggested this whole thing, after all. Ah well, in for a penny in for a pound. Neither of them had anything to lose.

Stephen felt a hand gently take his chin and turn his face. He found himself looking straight at Frank, who was closer than he had realised. They shared one of their cute smiles, but Frank’s eyes had a glint to them that suggested something more. Slowly, he drew Stephen’s face closer to his own, in return bending slightly more in order to get closer. At the last second, Stephen realised what Frank was about to do. And then Frank’s lips were upon his.

And it felt amazing.

His lips were unexpectedly soft and caring. Brushing lightly against Stephen’s at first, before pressing harder. Stephen accidentally moaned and felt Frank smile, pushing himself further upon Stephen. Stephen turned so they were now flush against each other and ran his hands all the way up Frank’s arms to twist around his neck, fingers in his hair. He was rewarded with a shiver from Frank. It was a surprisingly good kiss, tender but not wimpy, careful but not dull. However, neither was showing any intention of stopping anytime soon and Stephen could feel the kiss furthering. Tentatively, Stephen probed his tongue into Frank’s mouth, meeting Frank’s own immediately. They tangled together, sending shocks through their bodies. Frank’s arms tightened around Stephen’s waist, pulling him up and against him even more, forcing Stephen onto tiptoes. Suddenly, Frank spun them around, slamming Stephen against the wall. From before when it had been equal, it was clear who was in charge now. And Stephen found that incredibly hot. Frank grabbed Stephen’s thigh and lifted it around his waist. He was supporting pretty much all of Stephen’s weight now, which wasn’t very much for all the muscles. Speaking of muscles, Stephen allowed himself to explore Frank’s arms and chest and stomach, sliding his hands under the t-shirt that he had wanted to rip off all night. In return, he felt Frank’s hands sliding up his thighs to his buttocks. Stephen nearly moaned again.

They gradually became aware of the fact that people were watching them and slowly disengaged themselves. They were both breathing heavily, pupils blown wide and hearts racing. They took a moment to fully realise what had just happened, and Frank looked surprisingly ok for what Stephen assumed to be his first gay encounter. Stephen was practically shaking. Fucking hell, that was a good kiss. In some ways, it was good, because it was fucking amazing, but in other ways, it would never happen again and had got his expectations up. Cos this was all just for show, wasn’t it. All just for show.

But whatever Stephen might tell himself, these feelings blossoming inside of him, were definitely not just for show.


	4. The End of the Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So the night of fun is over after having gone strangely well and it's time for Stephen to cough up Frank's reward for being such a good (fake) boyfriend.

The party was over and they were walking home because Frank had had too much to drink to drive. It was ok though, because Stephen didn’t live too far away and Frank only lived a little way beyond that. It was cold so Frank had given Stephen his jacket, still acting the good boyfriend despite the lack of witnesses to perform to. They were discussing more openly now, Stephen even daring to ask about his home life and school behaviour. Frank seemed willing to share, telling him about his Mum, who didn’t love him, and his Dad, who pretty much hated him, and the brothers that liked to pretend he didn’t exist. It was pretty obvious from all that, and Stephen could sense there was even more to it, why he acted the way he did.

They were nearing Stephen’s house, walking along a quiet alley to save 10 minutes from the journey. Usually, Stephen would have been afraid to walk down alleys this late at night, but he felt safe with Frank. Oh god. That sounded so cliché; big bad boyfriend to protect him. Fake. Fake boyfriend. But it was still true.

It had been an… eventful… evening, to say the least. Stephen didn’t know how this would then affect them at school; should he even ever mention it again? But he felt they had made a bond which he really didn’t want to have to lose. It was strange because he had to keep reminding himself that this was still Frank Grayson. Especially when he was being sweet and kind and open. And thoughtful, giving Stephen his jacket. Or, you know, acting and stuff and playing along with the role and, you know, touching him and dancing with him and kissing him. Stephen blushed and shivered, remembering that kiss and all the feelings that had gone with it. If they hadn’t been in such a crowded room, who knew what would have happened. Oh yes… nothing. Because Frank didn’t like him, Frank wasn’t gay. He was just playing along in a role that Stephen had asked him to do. And he’d only done so because Stephen had promised him payment in some shape or form. Oh fuck, he’d forgotten about that.

“You cold?” Frank asked, seeing Stephen’s shiver.

Before Stephen could respond, Frank wound his arm around his shoulder.

“Not really.” Stephen began, flustered, before realising that Frank would then remove his arm and so grabbed the hand over his shoulder without thinking. “But a bit, yes, thanks.” More blushing as he realised he was now holding Frank’s hand.

Automatically, it seemed, Frank intertwined their fingers. Stephen’s heart skipped a beat.

“I was just thinking.” Stephen continued. “What you would want.”

Frank winked at him suggestively and Stephen blushed even more. He was basically a tomato now.

“You know… As payment… For tonight.” Stephen elaborated, hating the way that it sounded. All so set up, like it wasn’t real at all. Which it wasn’t. It just felt real. Because Frank was being so nice.

“I don’t know yet. I haven’t really thought about it.” Frank shrugged and Stephen felt his hopes rise.

That must have meant he’d forgotten too and felt like it was real. And it must have meant he enjoyed himself otherwise he would have been thinking about his reward all evening as, you know, motivation. He kind of hoped, although this was pushing it, that Frank would say like nothing because he had such a good time. But his fantasies had always got the better of him and it was stupid to dream like that. Stephen vaguely grew aware of the fact that Frank was talking again.

Well… money feels too much like prostitution. Maybe like a fancy dinner.”

Like a date! Stephen practically mentally screamed.

“Or a sort of slave-for-a-day thing.”

Oooh kinky, Stephen sighed, again only inside his brain.

“Maybe I’ll just keep it hanging over your head until I need a favour.”

Stephen wasn’t sure whether he wanted to be doing Frank’s favours or not.

They rounded a corner and found a group of teenagers, about their age, all wearing black hoodies with black tracksuits. There were about 5 or 6 boys, cans of beer cluttered at their feet and a cloud of smoke surrounding them. Even though he was with Frank, Stephen still hesitated.

Frank glanced down and saw how nervous he looked. He smiled gently. “It’s ok.”

Stephen smiled back, gratefully, and nodded.

However, at this moment, the group chose to turn their greasy faces to look at them. One of them pushed himself off from the wall.

“Well, well. Look what we have here. A couple of gays.” he spat the words, literally letting saliva fling from his mouth.

Ew, gross, Stephen thought.

Frank looked at him, levelly, and didn’t stop walking. His arm was still round Stephen - probably what gave the game away, especially when accompanied by that little smile – and so Stephen was dragged with him. He got this abuse a lot and usually ended up feeling a bit sore for a few days. He didn’t know if Frank was aware how far homophobia went.

“Oh, come on darlings. Won’t you play?” another of them jeered.

Frank kept walking through the middle of the group.

“What’s the matter, pretty boy?” a third drawled at Stephen as he passed. “Forget about your boyfriend, why don’t you and I have some fun?” he reached out and slid his hand up Stephen’s chest. Stephen recoiled away and felt Frank tense beside him. That was probably the biggest mistake of that boy’s life.

“Don’t you dare touch him.” Frank hissed, quietly but strongly, turning back to face him and stepping in front of Stephen.

Stephen felt his heart skip again. No. He was not getting turned on by Frank Grayson being all threatening and tough.

“Or what are you gonna do, gayboy two?” the boy sneered, although his voice shook a little bit. Stephen didn’t blame him; Frank did look incredibly hot… scary… when he wanted to.

Frank took a step forwards him. “Do you really want to go there?”

Stephen reached out and grabbed Frank’s hand, trying to pull him away. “Come on, babes. It’s fine.” And really it was. He got this all the time. To be honest, it was only down to Frank that he wasn’t getting beaten to a pulp on the floor. He’d already done more than enough and now they should just get on.

“No. It’s not. You shouldn’t have to put up with this.” Frank turned back to Stephen and gave him a stern, but comforting smile. “I’ve got this.”

“Ah finally, we’re gonna get some good action.” The boy that had dared to touch Stephen droned. He looked directly at Frank and winked, then turned to Stephen and licked his lips.

And Frank snapped.

“You want action?” he growled. “I’ll fucking give you action, you little piece of shit.”

And punched him, square on the nose.

That was a fucking good punch.

The guy fell to the ground, nose bleeding, eyes watering.

“What the fuck?” he said.

Frank laughed. “You think it’s ok to leer and jeer and generally assault gay people but when they stand up for themselves, suddenly all violence and confrontation is wrong? What the fuck is wrong with you people.”

“At least we’re not gays.” A different one snarled.

Frank turned to him, fixing him with a stare that could burn down a building. “Have you got a problem?”

“Yes. You and your boyfriend.”

Frank stepped closer. “What’s the matter with me and my boyfriend?”

Stephen’s heart practically stopped; Frank had just called him his boyfriend. Even if he hadn’t used correct grammar. His boyfriend! But no. This was not the time. He probably didn’t mean it anyway.

“You’re gay.”

Frank stepped closer again, right into the guy’s face. And spat, getting him in the eye.

“You fucking.” He punched him in the stomach. “Little.” Kicked him in the crotch. “Homophobic.” Slammed his head against the alley wall behind him. The boy crumpled and fell to the floor moaning. “Has anybody else got a problem?”

The rest of the group stood awkwardly, not wanting to appear weak but not really wanting what had just befallen the other two boys.

“Anybody else want to have a go at me and my boyfriend?”

Still silence. Nobody even breathed.

“No? Good.”

And with that, Frank spat one last time, before turning back to a gaping Stephen and walking on, purposefully sliding his arm around Stephen’s waist.

They turned the corner, walking in silence, Frank still fuming. After a moment he said, quietly “If anybody ever fucking treats you like that again, you call me, ok? You call me and you tell me where you are and who they are and I will fucking come and I will fucking kill them, ok? I don’t care if I am busy, if I’m with my family or with my friends, at school, at a party, abroad, you fucking call me. Promise me that you will do that.”

Stephen’s heart could have literally just melted out of his chest for all he knew. Frank looked so angry and so protective (and so hot), that Stephen just nodded. “I promise.”

“Good.” Frank took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “I’m sorry I ruined your evening.”

“Ruined my evening?” Stephen exclaimed. “You made it the best night of my life! You pretty much just saved my life. Have I even thanked you? Shit how rude of me. Thank you. Like, thank you so much, seriously. Thank you.”

He looked over to see Frank blushing. “You’re welcome. It was nothing.” He said gruffly. “You don’t deserve to get treated like that.”

They walked on in comfortable silence. They were very close to Stephen’s house now. They turned out of the alley onto Stephen’s road. They walked right up to Stephen’s door. The houses faced straight onto the pavement with only a few steps up to the front door. They stopped just next to these steps turning to face each other. Stephen’s heart was pounding; what was going to happen? Had Frank been feeling what Stephen had been feeling all evening or was it all just in Stephen’s head? Would he hug him? Kiss him?

They looked at each other for a long while, seeming to just soak in each other.

Frank opened his mouth as if to say something, before thinking better of it and closing it again. Then he simply said “Thanks for tonight, it was fun.”

“Yeh, thanks especially to you for stepping up to the job.” Stephen smiled.

“S’alright.” Frank muttered.

There was another silence.

“Guess I’ll see you around then.” Frank shrugged, turned and walked away.

“Bye then…” Stephen sighed.

So much for his prince charming. He turned and walked up the steps to his house, feeling his heart sinking. He fumbled for his keys in his pocket. Shit, he was still wearing Grayson’s jacket. Oh well, he wasn’t going to make a big effort to get it back to him. He’d give it back if he asked but… he didn’t really want to. It wasn’t like he felt anything for Grayson. He just liked the jacket. He had been caught up in the moment before. That was all. He felt moisture on his cheek and hurriedly wiped it away. Stupid cold. He wasn’t crying over Frank Grayson.

Suddenly, he heard a voice. “Er, Stephen.” It was Frank’s voice. He probably wanted his jacket back. Well he could have his fucking jacket.

“Yeh, sure. Have your jacket back. Sorry.” Stephen started tugging it off.

“Er, no. I don’t want it back. It’s fine.”

Oh of course he wouldn’t want it now that Stephen had worn it. He was probably worried he’d get infected with gay. Stephen shrugged it back on again and continued trying to access his keys from his too tight jeans.

Then Grayson spoke again. “I just… I just figured out what I wanted.”

Because that was all this evening had been about after all. All the talking and dancing and kissing and touching and saving his fucking life had just been about getting the reward. Well, he could fucking have it now and be out of Stephen’s life for good.

“What?” he asked bluntly, still not looking at him.

“You.”

Stephen spun around to see Frank standing simply in the middle of the pavement a few yards away. He was blushing but smiling nervously, looking so small and so vulnerable that Stephen had to pinch himself.

Ouch. No this wasn’t a dream. This was real. This was real!

“What?” Stephen asked again, just to make sure he had heard right, but a smile starting tugging at his lips and he didn’t resist.

“You.” Frank said again, grinning widely this time. “I want you. I want you to be mine. Mine to have and hold and kiss and all the other fucking romantic stuff, anything you want. So long as you want me too.”

Stephen literally jumped down the stairs and sprinted over to Frank. He collided with him, wrapping his arms around his neck and Frank lifted him off the ground and spun him round.

“I do.” Stephen smiled. “By god, I do.”

And then he kissed him.

And it was everything it had been before.

And more.

So much more.

As was every single kiss they shared after that, which was a hell of a lot.

And they just kept getting better and better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Hope you enjoyed!


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